Variation
by Tormalyne
Summary: Even tricksters have to practice. It's not so easy when your impersonation meets the real thing. [NiouYagyuu]


Prince of Tennis Belongs to Konomi. Not me. How I WISH it did. 

  
Variation 

The first time they switched, Yagyuu was surprised to find that he was staring at a double of himself, poised to step through the classroom door. Equal shock registered on the doppelganger's face, raised eyebrows almost a tone too dark, before Yagyuu found himself grabbed by the wrist. He was dragged to the nearest empty classroom, and shoved inside, the door slammed shut behind him. The double stared at him, irritation evident on his face, discomposed and nervous. Another of his partner's tricks, Yagyuu thought, resigned to the fact that he was about to be pulled into it. 

"Niou," he said, "I was wondering where I had left my extra pair of glasses." 

He reached forward and lifted the stolen lenses off of Niou's face, folding the legs and setting them on a desk. Niou ran fingers through his gel-slick hair, produced a tie, and with quick movements was suddenly looking wild, much more like himself. 

"You were supposed to be sick still, Yagyuu-kun! Your mom even told me you weren't coming to school!" 

Yagyuu didn't bother to wonder how Niou had extracted the information; Niou was resourceful and almost unexpectedly adept when it came to planning chaos. Instead, he frowned in thought a moment, and reached over to undo Niou's hair. He stared at the band lying against his fingers, deep red on pale skin, aware of his Niou's frustrated stare. 

"Help me with this." 

Niou was still for a moment, before grinning and ruffling his partner's hair, twisting it in deft fingers, red tie looped around natural brown. 

"If they ask, just say tell them you got bored over the weekend." 

It would be an acceptable explanation, Yagyuu thought as he nodded in acceptance of the excuse. However, it was most likely that no one would ask; Niou was Niou, and no one would feel a new hair color to be worthy of remark. 

Finished with his partner's makeshift disguise, Niou stepped away to give him a critical once over, before smoothing his own hair back into Yagyuu's style. He accepted the glasses from Yagyuu's face that he was offered, the extra pair on the desk disappearing into the depths of Yagyuu's bag. "You dyed it?" Yagyuu asked as they left the room together. He received a nod and devilish wink before he watched himself walk away and turn the corner to go to the first class of the day. 

Yagyuu shook his head at Niou's departing back. It was astounding how quickly he was becoming accustomed to Niou's whims. 

The trick almost fell apart when Yagyuu saw Sanada in the hall and had to clamp his lips shut on a polite greeting. He lifted a hand lazily instead, and kept talking to a boy he knew nothing about but had apparently known for years. Later, when the enraged class representative started scolding him about whatever offense Niou had committed the previous day, Yagyuu was rude and confrontational. When the girl finally calmed down enough to return to her own desk, Yagyuu was surprised to find that it was easier thinking of what _interesting_ item to put in her desk than to maintain his usual calm indifference. 

Each time Yagyuu saw Niou, in their shared gym period or passing each other in the hall, an uncharacteristically wicked look peeked out from behind the pair of borrowed glasses. Yagyuu almost worried that Niou would tire of the charade, would give them away just to see the confusion on everyone's face, but Niou shared a smirk with his partner instead. Yagyuu understood; Niou was delighted to be fooling an entire school with such a simple ploy and even more ecstatic to have an attentive audience for his trick. 

After hurried phone calls and offhand excuses, Niou slept over at Yagyuu's house that night. They walked upstairs to the bathroom, left to themselves while Yagyuu's family was out. Niou's strides were calm and elegant, Yagyuu's attitude boisterous and loud, his shoulder blades itching with the foreign feeling of hair brushing across his neck. When gel and temporary dye swirled down the drain, Niou turned to look at himself in the mirror, bleached hair dripping water down his bare back. 

"We'll have to work on it," he said to the image of Yagyuu standing behind him. "Make it perfect, until not even you or I can tell who's who. Next time we should both dye our hair, maybe with something permanent. If we could even just fool our parents..." 

How like Niou, to assume that there would be a repeat performance. 

How like Niou, to somehow know him well enough to be absolutely right. 

He trailed off as Yagyuu combed fingers through loose strands of his hair. Yagyuu had already restyled his hair into its usual neat coiffure and had replaced the glasses he'd reclaimed on the bridge of his nose. Damp fingers ran down Niou's back, and Yagyuu moved toward him, wet shirt against warm skin. Yagyuu leaned in to brush his mouth over Niou's shoulder and then slowly upward, lips moving across the smooth skin of his neck. He looked up at their reflections. 

"Not quite like looking into a mirror, eh, Niou?" 

Niou tilted his head and reached one hand up to remove Yagyuu's glasses. He put them onto the counter with a soft "clink" and didn't answer. 


End file.
